<h4>Chapter 151: Chapter 152 Getting Roasted Online</h4>


    I leaned in, closing the gap between us.


    ‘You were so brave before, running your mouth. Where’s that confidence gone now?’


    ‘I’ll call the cops!’ Harper whimpered.


    ‘Go right ahead. You started this mess, not me. You call the cops, and they’ll take you in. Harassment, provocation of violence, assault.’ I sniffed. ‘And public intoxication. Jesus, who drinks at ten o’clock in the morning?’


    Harper was reaching for her phone, but she froze halfway.


    I leaned in closer, almost nose-to-nose with her. ‘Delete your posts. Instagram, X, everything. Now.’


    Her fingers twitched, and her lip trembled. ‘I... I won’t delete them.’


    ‘You will. Or I’ll be the one calling the cops. You realise you’ve just handed Yvaine enough to sue the shit out of you, right? That stunt you pulled online—clear case of defamation and malicious falsehood.’


    ‘Yeah!’ Yvaine backed me up. ‘Malicious!’


    I’d picked up a thing or two fromwyer Hannah and put them to good use now. ‘She can file for damages—loss of business, all this smashed-up furniture, reputational harm. And don’t think a judge won’t grant an injunction and force a retraction. You’ll be lucky if you get away with a written apology. Public one, of course. Pinned to all your socials. You want your little fanbase of teenage skincare junkies to see you beg for forgiveness in front of a bakery disy case?’


    Harper squirmed. ‘I—’


    ‘Because that’s where this is going if you push it. Civil suit. Discovery. Cross-examination. Then your face goes from influencers’ moodboards to cautionary tale onw school blogs. So go ahead. Keep crying. But if you open your mouth again, make sure it’s to say you’re sorry.’


    Harper bit her lip. ‘I’ll call Cassian.’


    ‘Do it. If he’s still taking your side after all this crap you’ve pulled, he’s even dumber than I thought.’


    The fight drained out of her. ‘Fine, I’ll delete them...’


    Her fingers flew over the screen of her phone, and within seconds, both the Instagram and X posts were gone.


    ‘Can I go now?’ she mumbled, staring at the floor.


    I nced at her battered face, then at Yvaine, who looked rtively unscathed.


    Yvaine nodded.


    I raised my chin towards the door. ‘Get out.’


    Harper scrambled, almost tripping over herself as she rushed out.


    The second she disappeared, Daniel’s voice rang through the shop.


    ‘Someone just uploaded the video!’


    He waved his phone around, showing the rest of us the footage.


    It was a clear shot of the mess.


    With two of us against one of her, she looked like the victim instead of the instigator.


    I sighed, already knowing what wasing.


    There was no way someone wasn’t going to share the video.


    Harper being beaten was way more interesting than Harper getting rejected for custom jewellery.


    The inte loves a good fight.


    I looked at Yvaine. ‘Well, looks like we’re both getting roasted online.’


    She gave a shrug. ‘Worth it. And she started it.’


    She tossed her phone onto the counter, then grabbed the attention of the staff. ‘Everyone, go home for the day. There are a bunch of fresh cakes left in the back and the disy. Help yourselves, then enjoy the rest of the day off.’


    In a few minutes, the ‘Closed’ sign was up, and the staff scattered, leaving just Yvaine and me in the shop.


    Yvaine brought a few leftover cakes out from the kitchen.


    She plopped down across from me. ‘I’m starving. Beating up someone really takes it out of you.’


    ‘Do you need something for your face?’ I asked. ‘It looks a bit swollen.’


    ‘I’m fine.’


    ‘What the hell happened?’


    Yvaine lifted a shoulder. ‘She walked in, ordered something. I was in the kitchen. Must’ve posted it while she waited, then started demanding to see the manager. I came out. Sheunched straight into it. Said I was still obsessed with Cassian, used me of sabotaging their rtionship. imed I pulled strings, now he’s ignoring her calls and kicked her out of his t. Apparently, that’s all on me.’


    ‘Jesus.’


    ‘I told her to shut it and get out. She tried to trip me. I kicked her. Then you walked in.’


    Her phone buzzed.


    She picked it up.


    ‘Harper’s fans are going wild in thements.’


    I pulled my own phone out. ‘The woman knows how to stir up a mob.’


    At first, thements were feral—death threats, slut-shaming, people calling me a thug and Yvaine a washed-up sugar witch.


    Every insult you could think of got thrown our way.


    Then someone uploaded a longer video, the one where Harper pped first and started yelling about Cassian.


    That changed the tone fast.


    Yvaine’s regrs flooded thements next, posting photos of éirs and mousse tarts, raving about the cakes, tagging their friends.


    The replies turned into a dessert feed.


    Half of them forgot why they were angry.


    By mid-afternoon, the original video had vanished, and so had most of the outrage.


    People were losing interest.


    I shot a text to Ashton. [Did you have anything to do with this?]


    He replied: [I didn’t even get a chance to step in. Someone’s already handled the heat.]


    I raised an eyebrow, ncing up at Yvaine. ‘What about your brother? Emmett, did he help out?’


    ‘Nope,’ Yvaine said, shaking her head. ‘I asked him. He’s been in a meeting all day and hasn’t even seen the news yet.’


    Both of us were puzzled.


    If Ashton hadn’t done it and Emmett was out of the loop, who the hell had managed to shut it down so quickly?


    It didn’t stop there.


    Someone had started digging into Harper’s past, unearthing old scandals—stories of her causing trouble in school and always ying the victim.


    A shift in the narrative was already happening.


    We talked about it for a while, specting that it might’ve been one of Harper’s rivals in the entertainment industry.


    ‘Or an admirer of yours,’ I joked.


    ‘Or a hater of hers,’ Yvaine said.


    Turns out, we were both right.